Such A Sweet Nightmare
by AvenJackel
Summary: The world is black and white, according to the beliefs of the Guardians. But for Eve Hallows, the Keeper of Halloween with a mysterious past, the world is all grey. Never before have the Guardians ever had to work with the spirit of spooks, who enjoys scaring kids, but they are going to need Eve's help in order to take down a monster even more powerful than the Bogeyman... Jack/OC


**A/N: I have a problem. Like, seriously. I only just watched Rise of the Guardians two days ago (I know, it took me **_**forever**_**). But then I couldn't stop watching it. So, after watching my newly dubbed favorite movie of the year for the ninth time in the span of two days, I decided to take my idea and write it out!**

**I'm pretty excited for this story, even if it has been done a few times, but I hope my own personal plot-twists will be original...I haven't read a whole lot of Halloween spirit stories (I think about three of the multiple I've seen), and I wasn't the biggest fan of any of them, so I decided to try it myself!**

**I hope everyone enjoys my story, and, if you don't, feel free to leave any constructive criticism, but please no hateful comments or flames.**

**Love you all!**

**~AvenJackel**

**Edit 7/11/13: Changed Eve's age to twelve.**

* * *

"_There was a time when the coming of this night meant something. A dark Europe, groaning in superstitious fear, dedicated this Eve to the grinning Unknown. A million doors had once been barred against the evil visitants, a million prayers mumbled, a million candles lit.  
There was something majestic about the idea."  
-Robert Bloch_

** -Eve-**

_ My feet thumped against the ground, tripping several times over the roots of the trees around me. The hammering of my heart in my chest was borderline painful, matching the harsh panting of my breath. I turned around another tree, casting a quick glance behind me. They were still there, chasing me down like I was some sort of prey._

_ Maybe, to them, I was._

_ A root that was sticking up caught my foot in it, causing me to lose my balance and topple over. My head bashed into a rock, stars swimming in my vision. Everything was too dark in the forest, and I could hardly see anything as I rolled over and curled in on myself, too tired to get back up. The trees cast dark shadows in every direction, practically swallowing up any moonlight that tried to break through._

_ Guttural snarls circled around me, jagged teeth snapping just inches away from my skin. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs and gazing into the surrounding darkness with wide eyes. Creaking, like that of trees in the wind, and the chattering of bones resounded in my head. My eyes just barely caught a faint outline shifting nearby, and immediately I locked onto the figure._

_ It came closer, the leaves beneath it rustling and wilting as if they were terrified as well. A black claw-like, skeletal hand reached out towards me, as glowing red eyes stared me down. The red dots were the only source of light, multiple pairings of them appearing and slowly getting closer. They all stopped, just far enough away that I couldn't quite make out their appearance, but I already knew exactly what they were like._

_ Everything became silent. Not even the wind made a single noise. It was as if everything was dead, gone, like there was absolutely nothing in the world but those glowing red eyes. Nothingness. My breath quieted, smoothing into slow and deliberate instead of jagged pants. None of the creatures made to move any closer, content to simply terrify me by being there._

_ Gathering my legs beneath me, I carefully rose to my feet, my legs shaking fearfully as I sucked in a deep breath. I reached out and rested a hand on the trunk of a nearby tree, using it to steady myself. Taking in another deep breath, I felt myself go oddly numb, as if my body was simply giving up on being scared. It took too much energy to feel, anyway._

_ "Get away from me," I told the creatures all around, my voice coming out much steadier than I had expected._

_ The one closest to me cocked its head. At least, that's what I thought it did. For all I knew, it could've not have had a head at all. It took a silent step closer to me, and another, until I was practically nose to...whatever with the thing. Rancid breath, smelling of rotten food and the creepy scent that came from the black covered carriages, breathed right in my face._

_ A croaking noise came from the creature's would-be mouth, sounding to be a cacophony of breaking bones, snapping trees, and crumbling stone. Its mouth was nothing more than a hole of pure emptiness. I couldn't help but wonder if the creature was as scary as it looked. Father had always said 'there is nothing to be afraid of but fear itself'._

_ I normally listened to him. Which meant...the creatures around me couldn't have been scary. Either that, or they really were fear itself. I was still trying to decide which._

_ Before I could make another move, the creature got closer, until the only thing I could see was the grotesque black figure before me, its glowing red eyes boring into mine. Its jaw dropped into a gaping hole, jagged teeth, leering straight at me. In the blink of an eye, the creature lunged right for me and swallowed me whole. Those red eyes were the last thing I ever saw._

_ I didn't even scream._

* * *

I blinked open my bright orange eyes, sitting up with a bored sigh at the familiar dream. No matter how many times I had that dream, literally about every day, I never felt any different about it. I had never been afraid of it, of waking up from it into the always darkened room, but I didn't appreciate or like it either. Most of the time, I found myself to be a very neutral person. There were very few things I actually expressed real feelings for.

Candy and cats were some of those things. I loved them. Like how I loved tricks, costumes, and, of course, scaring people. Although, I rather disliked dogs. Just throwing that out there.

Sitting up and stretching, I let out a single yawn before jumping to my feet and blindly reaching out for the thick handle to my human-sized scythe I knew was nearby. Even though it was completely dark in the room, I felt at ease as I slung the weapon over my shoulder casually. I made my way over to where the door was, shoving it open and taking in the bright moonlight that filtered down onto my graveyard.

Many, many years ago, I had first woken up in the middle of a forest in Europe. After so many years of staying there, it had been torn down in order to build a town. More years passed, and I easily grew bored of the humans, before moving on to an entirely different continent. I wandered a bit before I found a quaint little town at the edge of the coast. And I had stayed at the old graveyard there in the rickety old shack in Salem, Massachusetts ever since.

Sure, the people were a bit dull most of the year, as all people usually were, but the locals of Salem definitely knew how to throw a Halloween party. That was exactly why I had hung around for so long. Well, and because I may or may not have been the reason for a certain couple of trials in the late seventeenth century.

Not my fault people took everything too personally back then.

Okay, maybe it was. A bit.

And that was the reason why dear old Uncle Manny hadn't spoken to me since then. You make some little mistakes that get a few people wrongly accused of being witches and suddenly you're labeled for life. People these days, I swear.

"Eve, you are going crazy," I sighed to myself, shaking my head as I gazed up at the full moon. My voice still had the lilt that I had grown with, the accent that good ole' England had beaten into me when I still lived there. "You know, I still blame you for this, Uncle Manny," I told him. "If only you had given me a better job, or maybe better companions," I continued in bored exasperation. "Unlike the _**lazy butts I hang out with!**_" I called the last bit more loudly, knowing that the lousy cat would hear me from across the graveyard.

As if on cue, my oh-so lovely friend, Blair, padded up to me in all her black furred glory. Her luminescent yellow eyes sparkled as she leaped up, uninvited, onto my shoulder. The long, black tail swished back and forth, whether in greeting or irritation, I don't think I'd ever really know. That was the thing about Blair, the reason she was one of the extremely few living things I actually liked. Just like my other few companions, Blair was as mysterious and allusive as they came.

"So, Blair," I started casually, hopping onto a nearby tombstone and leaping from gravestone to gravestone, all while Blair lazily clung to my shoulder. "What do you want to do today? Scare some local kids? Steal some more candy from Granny Lee? I'm really open for any suggestions, but we are _**not**_ hunting mice," I rattled off. "That was a total bust last time," I added as an after-thought.

Blair let out a quiet hiss, claws digging slightly into the tight leather jacket that I loved so dearly. A growl built up in the black cat's throat, and I looked to where her eyes were directed. Yep, just as I expected. It was nearing my favorite time of the year, and, like always, some idiotic teenagers were slowly tip-toeing through my mist-filled graveyard.

"Time to go to work," I smirked widely and made sure to flip up the fabric hood of my black leather jacket, perfectly complimenting the white skull mask that I wore.

Even if nobody could actually see or hear me, it still always felt more fun to look the part of 'creepy haunted graveyard ghost'. Well, I wasn't exactly a ghost, but rather more of a spirit. There was a difference, people. Either way, I looked pretty badass, if I said so myself.

Beneath my hood and mask, my ebony, pixie-cut hair was hidden away, with only my bright pumpkin-colored eyes showing past. My black leather jacket was tight around my midriff and my near nonexistent bust (that was _**not**_ of my choosing; it just so happened that I had only been twelve when I had died, and puberty hadn't 'blessed' me yet). Underneath my jacket, there was a bright orange t-shirt that matched my eyes, decorated with the words 'Trick-or-Treat' in jagged lettering. A pair of _**slightly**_ loose black skinny jeans that allowed me plenty of moving room were tucked into thick-soled, metal-toed combat boots that had orange lacing.

Like I said, pretty badass.

Stopping on a tombstone just a few feet in front of the teens, I crouched down and balanced on the palms of my feet. The blade of my scythe, which had a zigzagging black and red pattern, was stuck in the dewy ground, the blunt end of it sticking up near me.

Most people, after the age of around thirteen, began to ignore childish fears. You know, like the monsters and ghosts that went bump in the night. At least, that's what everyone told themselves. But, you see, I knew better than that. Because I had seen it all myself. I've seen grown men weep at the mere snapping of a twig.

After all, it was my job.

Smirking, I cast a side-long glance towards Blair, who was also intently watching the graveyard 'intruders'. The cat flicked her ears silently, affirming that she already knew what to do. Leaping down from my shoulder, said partner in crime confidently sauntered her way towards our newest targets. My grin widened even further beneath my mask, and I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet in anticipation.

My targets were three teenagers, looking to be about seventeen or eighteen-years-old. The seemingly leader of the group, a fair-haired boy with a sour expression and a cigarette hanging from his mouth, looked bored as he gazed scornfully around himself. Behind him, a blonde haired girl, that could've been his sister, was shaking like a leaf and a dark-skinned boy was laughing at the sister.

"Michael Sampson," the leader, Mister 'Too Cool For Lung Cancer', said aloud, reading one of the names of a newer tombstone. "Isn't that the loser who died in that drunk-driving accident last year?" he scoffed humorlessly.

I narrowed my eyes, straightening up slowly and grabbing the staff end of my scythe, easily lifting it from the ground. Seriously, what was wrong with teenagers nowadays? It was one thing to wander in graveyards and not be all scared. That, I completely understood. But to openly mock people who had lost their lives?

Let's just say that I no longer felt any trace of guilt for what I was about to do.

Gracefully hopping to a taller gravestone, I leered down at the leader boy in front of me. He settled on a tombstone, brushing his cigarette ashes onto the ground as if it were his ashtray. My hand balled into a fist, and my eyes narrowed. This boy totally had everything coming.

On cue, Blair jumped onto one of the tombstones right across from the teens. She hissed angrily, back arched and ears laid back. Her yellow eyes were narrowed with the same frustration and anger that pooled in my own.

Immediately, the girl of the group freaked out and nearly fell back in her haste to get away. The boy of colored descent jumped a bit at the sudden appearance, but eventually calmed down, while the leader boy just glared at the cat.

Long ago, a hissing black cat in a graveyard would've gotten you an angry mob and an entire witch hunt.

But, I always loved a good challenge.

Grinning to myself, I flitted over to the small pumpkin patch that was nestled at the edge of the cemetery. As it was mid-October, the pumpkins were finally beginning to reach a good size. After casting a critical look over the patch, I spotted one that would suit my needs just right. I scooped it up and, with a quick flick of my scythe, a skillfully carved Jack-O-Lantern took the pumpkin's place.

"Man, I love my job," I smirked mischievously as I promptly planted the Jack-O-Lantern over my head.

Slinking back to where the teens were, I crouched down right behind them and waited for the perfect moment. Even though nobody would ever be able to see or hear me, being the Spirit of Halloween, I had shadows and everything else considered 'scary' at my disposal. I spread my arms out to my sides, hunching my neck and back, as I shuffled towards them.

As I neared them, the shadows around the graveyard shifted, clinging to me until all I looked like, to everyone, was a black figure with a pumpkin head. I purposefully snapped a few twigs with my combat boots, causing the heads of the teens to swivel in my direction. Barely suppressing a chuckle, I watched in silent joy as their expression changed from confusion, to shock, and finally into fear.

Even the leader boy practically pissed his pants.

They raced off, tripping over their own feet as they scrambled to get as far away from me and my graveyard as possible. I fell over in my fit of laughter, clutching at my stomach as Blair glared down from her 'all-mighty' perch on a tombstone. Gasping in breaths of air, I removed my trusty Jack-O-Lantern, the very first of the year, and set it down gently beside me.

The shadows slinked back to their original positions, leaving me alone to catch my breath, my laughter slowly fading back to quiet snickers. I leaned against the tombstone Blair was on with a sigh, gazing up at the moon that seemed to be looking down on me in disapproval.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Old Man," I grumbled in return, my hood sliding back down. "I never _**asked**_ for this job. _**You**_ were the one that gave it to me," I reminded him.

My upcoming rant was interrupted by a familiar hooting. Casting my eyes upwards, they spotted a white and light brown bird. A smile wormed its way onto my pale lips as the creature, a beautiful barn owl with a heart-shaped face, alighted down on the tombstone beside Blair and me.

"Hey there, Salem," I murmured, reaching out one of my hands and softly stroking the owl's feathers. "Any news recently?" I wondered, cocking a thin eyebrow in question.

In response, Salem tilted his head to the side and stared at me with his wide, dark eyes. He blinked slowly, as if honestly attempting to freak me out, before twisting his head around to preen his neck feathers. Rolling my eyes, I shook my own head and chuckled slightly as his not so valiant effort. Nothing freaked me out. With a soft hoot, the young barn owl nuzzled his head against my cheek.

"What is it, little spook?" I murmured, resting my hand on the top of his head.

He nibbled slightly on my finger, not painfully so, but enough that it pinched a bit. And then he launched off of the tombstone and into the forest surrounding my graveyard. A few seconds passed before Blair hopped down and sauntered her way after him, probably off to hunt some mice for their dinner. Or would it be for their breakfast, since we were all nocturnal?

Either way, I was once more left alone with only the brightly lit moon for any form of company. With a sigh, I stood up and stretched. I grabbed a piece of sugary goodness, also known as delicious candy, from my pocket and popped it into my mouth. Picking up the first Jack-O-Lantern of the year in one arm and my scythe in the other, I wandered off the opposite direction my animal companions had gone.

Passing beneath the eerie shadows of the trees, I casually held up the pumpkin in my hand. "To be, or not to be," I muttered dramatically. "That is the question. Isn't it, _**Freddy**_?" With a smirk, I tossed the pumpkin high into the air. Just as it reached the peak of the toss, a short burst of orange dust exploded from the pumpkin. I easily caught it in my hand once more.

"Long time no see, kid," my dear friend chattered amiably.

"Hey Freddy," I grinned down at the pumpkin. Yes, he was really a talking pumpkin.

That was a very long story. Maybe I'll tell you eventually.

"That time of the year again!" the pumpkin cheered.

"Exactly," I smirked mischievously. "Our games begin now."


End file.
